Added toyour bag,Chica

BACHELORETTES+ARROWS

The Boys+Arrows gals don’t believe in keeping things traditional, especially when it comes to bachelorette parties. The word bachelorette itself is just annoying. Guys get to call it a stag party. Stag party!? I mean, that just doesn’t seem fair. So on a mission to have a female version “stag party,” a total of four days and three nights were spent in Tulum, Mexico for our dearest OG and bride-to-be, Samantha.

The idea was pure. We were supposed to get together for a healthy, water drinkin’, yoga-filled, sun-soaked, BA bikini livin’ vacation before Samantha became a Mrs! What actually happened is very similar to the brilliant idea of stopping by for “just one” adult beverage… Great intentions, complete failure. Every Goddamn time.

To sum up what ACTUALLY happened: so much sweat which smelled of tequila and exhaust (from sleeping on a hard bed in a one room hut where you felt the need to sleep with one eye open), a hammock with an incredible view, lots and LOTS of tequila, boogie boarding and dancing, wearing the littlest B+A bikinis with a lot of booty hanging out, unmentionable bodily functions after eating ceviche (Tripadvisor.com told us not to eat. Should have listened), a dangerous dare card sash, permanent purple toes, pesos, nudity and so many memories to cherish forever. And also to never be spoken of again.

But what is a female version stag party or anywhere the B+A gang congregates without some harmless trouble making, RIGHT!? Apparently our tequila soaked subconscious had the same idea. So we dared each other, got naked, forgot to go to bed, ate the ceviche, became one with the bugs, had parking lot dance offs, played obnoxious rap, and tortured the almost Mrs.

Things became a bit of a blur. Just the way we traditionally like it.

This tequila consumption led to something we secretly all love: trying to drag someone in to the ocean against their will (…isn’t that something you love?!). In this particular case, Meagan was the victim. As a survivor, Meagan has offered some advice if you ever happen to find yourself in this position:

Pretty much lay like a dead person (that is when you’re the heaviest) and use all 4 limbs (feet and hands) to take off the predators bikinis. Once they are naked, they get far less confident and it really helps when fighting them off. When you are finally free, throw yourself into the ocean. Game over. You win.

Somewhere in the mix of things came befriending a drug lord, a crazy cab driver who hit speeds of 100+ mph, a run-in with singing clowns, cartwheels on the beach, and serenading taxi drivers. There were many more revelries that cannot be shared because we all know what happens in Mexico, stays in Mexico.

The great news is everyone came back with all limbs attached and Samantha is now a wifey! Cheers to wild times in Mexico with your girls, never revealing the full-truth about what actually happened on your female version stag party and marrying the love of your life. Fundamental component: Marry the love of your life. Only that one. Otherwise keep on keepin’ on!